DIY
by Jojo6
Summary: Daniel's DIY skills aren't that great. SJ. Future. no spoilers


Title: DIY  
Author: Jojo  
Email: randomleaves@yahoo.co.uk  
Disclaimer: Not mine  
Season: Future  
Summary: Sap. Um... more sap. Sap. Then some sap.   
Spoilers: None  
A/N: Thanks to Michelle and Karen  


*

*

*

"Insert screw C into hole D, joining together A and B."

Daniel lifted up the little packet of screws and stared at them myopically, tilting the bag towards the morning light streaming through his window. Screw C? Which was screw C? 

He bent over and peered at the instructions again, staring at the tiny, badly drawn picture depicting the action of screw C going into hole D and joining together A and B. He was pretty sure he knew what A and B were – they were two pieces of pale, varnished wood that would go into making the left side and middle shelf of his nice, simple looking shelving unit.

Daniel turned the instructions over and with a cry of 'ah-hah!' he saw there was a small key in the bottom left hand corner, showing the differences between the screws. Screw C, for instance, was longer than screw B. Whereas screw A had a funny kind of top. And screw D wasn't actually a screw at all. It was a plastic thingie.

Proud of himself, he tipped the screws out into a pile onto his three hundred year old Persian carpet and carefully selected the right one before lining up A and B and slotting the long screw in as far as it would go.

"Taking screwdriver B... Screwdriver B? What the hell...." Reaching over to the cardboard packaging, he checked inside and selected another little plastic bag. This time, there weren't any screws. These, he was pretty sure, were bolts. Or nuts. There were some nails too – now he could handle nails. For years, a hammer and a tin of nails had been pretty much all he carried around on digs (apart from his tools). Came in very useful when you were fixing dangerous pieces of scaffolding. And chairs.

Distracted for the moment by the phone ringing, Daniel jumped up and chased the noise around the apartment, wishing once again that he'd never got a cordless and had simply stuck with a normal phone with a cord. At least then he could be sure of where to find it. 

Finally, finding it inside a pile of dirty clothes on his bedroom chair, he shut the damn thing up by answering, "Daniel Jackson!" Wow. That was a little exuberant, even for him.

"Why is it you always sound like the telephone is the newest technology you've come across?"

"Hi, Jack! How are you? It's so good to hear from you. Are you having a nice vacation?" Daniel said sarcastically, walking back into his living room and neatly avoiding one of the piles of books he'd stacked around his desk. 

"Daniel, people who know each other well don't bother with that crap."

Daniel blinked. "I just don't know what Sam sees in you, Jack."

"At the moment, I'm wondering what I see in her."

He snorted. The reason for the phone call suddenly became clear. "All is not well in the O'Neill household, I take it."

"She's driving me NUTS!"

Carefully, Daniel sat himself down in front of his shelving unit and started to divide the screws into three piles according to their assigned name. "Uh huh. What's happened?"

"She's impossible."

"Really," Daniel said dryly.

"I've never met a woman who is more difficult!"

Hathor? Anise? Don't exaggerate or anything, Jack. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything! Why does everyone assume it's me who's done something?"

He paused and tried to decide whether he wanted to go for 'sympathetic' or 'mocking'. There was one obvious choice when it came to Jack. "Because it usually is?"

"This could be the exception for all you know!"

"Could be." But he doubted it. Jack's penchant for sticking his foot in his mouth was legendary. "Why don't you run me through what happened?"

"Okay. Wait... I'm going to go outside. I think I can hear her getting out of the shower."

Daniel waited while Jack climbed out of a window – well, that's what it sounded like; there was a lot of puffing and scraping noises. He'd never been to the cabin so he had no idea what the layout was but it sounded as if Jack was mountain climbing or something.

"I'm outside," Jack whispered. "The thing is I..." He went silent.

Daniel leaned forward. "You?" he prompted.

"Shh!"

Oh, for God's sake... Daniel listened closely to the earpiece and he could just about make out the sound of a woman's voice. Sam's voice. In a slightly higher pitch than he was used to, but then he'd never really fought with Sam, certainly not to the extent and frequency that Jack did.

It was times like this that Daniel relished not being in a relationship with anyone.

Jack said something back – Daniel couldn't hear because the sound was very muffled, which suggested Jack had covered the mouthpiece – and then there was a very, very loud sound.

The unmistakable noise of a door slamming, in fact.

"Yeah. I gotta go."

Daniel laughed, genuinely entertained. "No kidding! What did she say?"

"Um... she swore a lot."

"Really? Sam?" It was hard for Daniel to pinpoint why this delighted him so much.

"I'll have you know, Carter swears more than I do."

"Ha! I've never heard her swear." You really do learn a new thing every day, Daniel thought.

"She stores it up and then she'll say things that'll make you *blush*."

He just couldn't picture it. "Like what?"

"I am certainly not telling you that."

Daniel made a mental note to get Jack drunk the next time they saw each other. It was the only way he was going to get this information out of him. Of course, he'd have to remember not to drink himself, otherwise he'd have no recollection of what Jack had told him.

It was possible there were flaws in the plan.

"I'll try to call later."

"I'm looking forward to it!"

"Yeah – and I find that concept extremely worrying."

Jack hung up, leaving Daniel to his own devices once more.

He picked up the instructions once more and found where he had left off. "Tighten screw C into hole D with screwdriver B." He checked that the screw was still twiddled into the little hole. "Right. I can do that. Wait, where did that screwdriver go?" 

*

Lunchtime came and Daniel went out and bought himself a sandwich from the Italian deli around the corner. And if he managed to practice his Italian while he was there, flirting with the wife of the owner (thankfully, much to the owner's amusement), then that was only a bonus. 

He munched on his sandwich and studied his half finished bookcase. He'd got the basic skeleton done and now all he'd have to do was put the back boards on – which involved a lot of hammering.

This DIY thing was way more satisfying that he'd previously thought. Who'd want to buy antiques when you could build something with your own two hands? Admittedly, yes, someone else had cut up all the wood for him. And varnished it. And written some very, very bad instructions for him.

But that wasn't the point.

He was just licking some mayonnaise off his fingers and heading towards his fridge for a drink when the phone rang and this time – he couldn't help but feel proud – the phone was in easy reach. 

"Hello?" Damn. Looked like he had nothing but very old milk to drink in his fridge. Water it was then. 

"Hi, Daniel – it's Sam."

Oh, it figured. "Hi! How are you?"

"Pretty pissed."

He was so smooth. Now – he had to decide whether to be all knowing or completely oblivious. It was a toss-up as to which would give him more entertainment. "Really? Why?"

"Jack didn't speak to you this morning?" she asked.

He considered for a moment – did this mean Jack had *told* her he'd just spoken to Daniel or she'd just assumed? Hmm. "Briefly. I didn't get much out of him," he admitted.

"He didn't tell you what he did?"

"I knew he'd done something purely because, well, he's Jack." He found a glass – one of the nice blue glass ones someone had given him for his birthday a few years ago.

No, wait... maybe it was more than a few years ago. He did a quick math sum in his head. Oh God. *Fifteen* years ago. Fifteen! And if he wasn't mistaken, Sarah had given them to him.

Now that was pretty damn depressing.

"Well, he's really done it this time."

Daniel held the blue glass up to the light and admired them, wondering just what Osiris was doing to Sarah's body right then and there. Yes. Very depressing. Painfully so. 

He put the glass back and brought out one of his plain ones, determined not to dwell on something that had happened so long ago. "Is this like the time he spilled paint all over your car?"

"Worse."

"Wow." She'd been pretty mad then – as in spitting mad. Jack had turned up at his apartment late at night, looking desperate and sheepish. "What did he do, then?" he asked, reminded once again that he'd never actually found out what had happened.

"Oh, you know... it doesn't sound so bad now that it's been a few hours but you should have *heard* the argument he used in his defense!"

Daniel rolled his eyes and held a finger under the running tap, waiting for the water to get cool. "What did he *do*, Sam?"

"I'm... To be honest with you, Daniel, I'm no longer sure."

He snorted. "Typical. You two are the worst..."

"He's the worst! This is all his fault!"

"Sam, please, let's face it. You know what Jack's like. His smartass of a mouth runs away with him and he always ends up saying something he doesn't mean..."

"Oh no – he *did* mean it this time."

The change in tone alerted Daniel to the real issue and he dipped the mouth of the glass under the tap and filled it halfway. "What did he say?"

"Something about me not being serious about us."

Well, that could mean only one thing. The one thing that had divided Sam and Jack since the beginning: marriage. She'd said no again, obviously. "Ah."

"Don't 'ah' me, Daniel Jackson," she said snippily. "I am serious about this relationship just *not* in the way he thinks I should be. Marriage is not the be all and end all of a relationship."

It was for Jack, Daniel thought, who was, essentially, a pretty old fashioned guy. "Explain to me again why you don't want to get married."

"I *do* want to get married."

Yeah, Daniel was beginning to see the 'impossible' side of Sam Carter that Jack had been twittering on about. "Just not now?"

"Exactly!"

He wanted to ask why not now but he was afraid she'd shout at him. He really wasn't in the mood to be shouted at in lieu of Jack. "Does Jack know this?"

"Of *course* he knows this. And if he doesn't, I'm not going to explain it again!"

Somewhere, somehow, there was logic in there, Daniel decided. But it was in code. Unbreakable code, as far as Daniel was concerned. "Okay, okay. So he brought up the marriage thing again and what did you say?"

"I told him... there's a distinct possibility I told him I wouldn't marry him even if he was last man on Earth." This time there was a thread of humor in Sam's tone.

"Sam!"

"I was furious, Daniel!"

"But *still*..." Daniel chuckled. "How did he take it?"

"Well, he'd gotten so angry at that stage that he'd become sort of speechless. You know."

"Yeah, I know."

Now probably wouldn't be a good time to reminisce about the time when Jack had exploded off-world at a bunch of alien head honchos and then spent the rest of the mission in tense, grey silence. Blissful, quipless silence.

"So he threw his hands in the air and stomped out of the room. He's in a boat in the middle of the lake at the moment. We haven't spoken since the last spat about lunch."

"You argued about lunch?"

"Uh-huh. Salad dressing."

Daniel bit his lip. Hard. "You argued about salad dressing?"

"Don't laugh at me."

"I'm not laughing at you!" Which was technically true. He wasn't laughing at her. He was laughing at the both of them.

If he'd had cable – or, in fact, a TV, come to think of it – he *knew* the Sam and Jack Show would beat any sit-com.

Sam sighed. "Funny how talking to you puts things in perspective. Guess you really are the diplomat of the team, Daniel."

And she only just realized this *now*? 

"Thank you," he said modestly, privately thinking that maybe it was time she went and talked to Jack with all this perspective she'd supposedly gained and left him alone with his DIY. 

Sometimes Daniel felt like a much tried parent.

"So, what are you up to during your downtime?" Sam asked.

"I have that dinner with a bunch of old colleagues tomorrow night but today... I'm building a bookshelf."

"Really?"

"Yeah – I bought this flat pack self assembly thing from a shop. You know, I'm beginning to understand why you like locking yourself away in your lap and building your reactors. It's very satisfying."

There was silence for a long moment and then a giggle. "Yes, it's very satisfying, Daniel. Unfortunately, your bookshelf isn't going to save the planet sometime in the future."

She had a point.

"But your translations have time and time again," she added, in case he'd been hurt.

He hadn't. But it was nice that she had covered her bases anyway. 

"Oh crap!"

Daniel looked at the phone in surprise. "What?"

"I don't believe this - I think he's caught a damn fish. I *hate* fish! I have to go, Daniel. I'm going to get the steaks out of the freezer and pretend that they've been defrosting for hours."

*

Half a bottle of a very nice sauvignon with his dinner of cold smoked salmon and salad (new diet – doctor's orders) and Daniel was feeling very mellow. He rather wished he had someone to share in the glory that was his bookshelf and to agree with him that the slight tilt to the left was due to the floorboards and *not* his DIY skills. But there was little he could do about that at half past ten at night.

Maybe he could have a bookshelf party.

"I can't believe I just thought that," he groaned. It was clearly time for bed. He wanted to be fresh for tomorrow, after all – he had a number of things to do in preparation for his dinner. A dinner he was, ultimately, not looking forward to. He'd get all the smarmy questions about his work, and when he'd say it was all 'classified' (it was sad how old that particular excuse had gotten over the years), they'd start theorizing on what he could possibly be doing with a bunch of military guys.

So, no, it wasn't going to be thrilling. But it usually only happened once a year, and it was nice to keep his toe in the academic world. Even if they were all wrong.

He left a note for himself on the cork board in the kitchen, reminding him to collect his dry cleaning first thing in the morning, and then he went to bed.

Only to be woken, nearly three hours later, by something ringing. Loudly. 

In his confused and alarmed state, he toppled his lampshade over as he searched for his glasses – damn, damn, damn – and then proceeded to knock over two piles of books that he had yet to put on the new bookshelf. He grabbed the phone, cursed in Italian, and answered with a brusque, "What?"

"She said yes!"

"Oh, it's you." Well, there went all the possible other reasons someone could have called him in the middle of the night – alien invasion, death, accident. Instead, it was just one of his best friends who had no sense of tact or timing...

"She said yes!"

"Who said 'yes'?" That bookshelf was definitely tilting. Crap. He wondered what had gone wrong.

"Daniel? Are you paying attention?"

Maybe if he shoved a couple of books underneath one end? Wait... he had a piece of wood left over... Oh. He picked up the small wooden leg that was hiding under a table. Well, *that* explained the tilt. He'd missed a damn piece, hadn't he?

Stupid DIY. It was all those instructions' fault. He'd read better instructions on the sides of half-crumbling alien walls.

Next time he was going to pay extra for someone professional to build it for him. "Hey – you built your cabin, didn't you, Jack?" he asked with sudden insight. Maybe he could get *Jack* to build it for him. He was retired. He had lots of time on his hands. It was the perfect solution!

"Only the extension. Are you listening to me?"

"It's..." His head swiveled around, looking for a clock. "It's nearly two in the morning, Jack, what do you think?"

"Sam said yes."

"Yes? Wait... yes? To marriage?" Daniel shook his head, waking up fully. "Oh my God, Jack, that's... that's great!" 

Hold on... it hadn't been so long since Sam had told *him* point blank that she wasn't ready to get married. What was going on here? "Er... how did this happen?" He was just so damn *smooth*.

"Oh, we had a long... long talk. Long. I mean, really long, Daniel."

Daniel rolled his eyes. Jack considered ten minutes a long conversation. 

"Actually, she might have proposed to me, but if you tell anyone that I swear..."

"I'll take it to my grave, Jack, I promise," Daniel promised quickly. "Hey, can I talk to Sam?"

"Sure. Wait... I'll check to see if she's awake." There was murmuring and the phone was passed over.

"Daniel!"

"Hey – Sam. Congratulations."

She laughed. "Thanks, Daniel."

"I'm really thrilled for you. I guess you changed your mind, then," he said, as tactfully as possible.

"No, I didn't," she said proudly. 

His brain obviously wasn't up to its usual acuteness because he had no idea where she was going with this. "You said you didn't want to get married yet," he reminded her pedantically.

"I don't. Looooong engagement, Daniel. I'm thinking... a year."

"Oh!" He laughed. "Oh, of course. I don't know why I didn't suggest it."

"Well, I came up with it when I was looking at the best before dates on the steaks." There was a bark of laughter in the background and then Sam's breathy laugh.

"That's just... so romantic, Sam." He snorted helplessly. "Have you called Teal'c yet?"

"No. You were the first person we told. We figure we owed it to you for being such pains in the ass today." There was more murmuring from Jack. "Jack says he wasn't a pain in the ass. That he was a delight." More murmuring. "Now he's saying something about some time when you made him sleep on a lumpy couch because your spare room had some old junk on the bed and you didn't want to move it and therefore... well, somehow he's suggesting that means you deserved to be bugged."

Daniel's mouth dropped open. "I'll have you know that those were *priceless* artifacts and my couch is *not* lumpy."

"Jack? Daniel says you deserved it," Sam announced gleefully.

"Sam!" he exclaimed.

There was a yelp. Whether it came from Jack or Sam, Daniel couldn't tell. 

"I do not *hog* the bed..." Sam squeaked loudly. 

There was some more murmuring. 

"If anyone hogs the bed, it's you," she retorted. 

Murmur. Murmur. Snort.

"No *way*. Jack, I've never met a man who moves around so much in his sleep!"

Murmur. 

"I can't believe you just said that."

Exclamation. Murmur. Exclamation. 

"Well, if that's the way you feel about it maybe you should sleep in the spare room!"

Oh God.

Daniel held the phone away from his ear and scratched his stomach underneath his T-shirt and considered his options. He could hang up and go back to bed. Or... he could listen in on their argument and get something to eat. He was kinda hungry. Following a healthy diet really wasn't his thing after all. 

He wondered if he had any ham in the fridge. 

  


  



End file.
